


Retrospective Study

by yami0204



Category: Kamen Rider Ex-Aid
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 16:12:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10666224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yami0204/pseuds/yami0204
Summary: A retrospective study of the factors which indicate that Kagami Hiiro's infatuation with Houjou Emu may be more than of a typical intern-attending physician relationship.





	Retrospective Study

I have decided to make a record of my thoughts on this issue, as the issue appears to be persistent at this time. I have a predetermined conclusion that my train of thought will arrive at, but I feel it necessary to sort out this issue in a measured fashion in an attempt to fully understand it in the unlikely event that my original theory is incorrect. The issue appears benign enough, as my mind is merely being cautionary in its thoughts on the matter, yet there is a small chance of it being detrimental to my future. Whatever the case, I find that it is ideal for me to visualize this issue in a textual format in order to fully comprehend what my situation is and if I am, for lack of a better term, overreacting. The findings at the end of this writing experiment should hopefully produce intriguing results regardless of outcome.

My issue is as follows: Do I like Houjou Emu?

My interactions with Houjou Emu have been largely professional, though our professional and personal lives have become somewhat mixed given our current work status. I have spent more time with Houjou Emu in the last half year than I have with most of my peers and colleagues during an equal amount of time. Our professional relationship is meant to be that of intern and attending physician, where he is a medical intern and I am his attending physician. However, circumstances sometimes eradicate those roles completely, especially within an emergency.

I must admit that early in our professional relationship, I was quite leery of Houjou Emu’s ability to do anything at all. He is not what I would consider prime material for a life in front-line, patient-oriented care. Outwardly, he is clumsy, childish, and idealistic. At the time, I felt that he would be more suited to a position in healthcare that involved little to no patient interaction, but he proved me wrong quite swiftly. He has a warm demeanor that is friendly and caring, though it can make him seem a bit too close to patients. The physician-patient relationship is a strange mix of letting the patient relay information to the physician in confidence that they would otherwise tell no one, while the physician must maintain a wall of thick, clear glass between themselves and the patient in order to uphold a level of professionalism that implies that the physician and the patient are not friends and never will be. Houjou Emu tends to blur that line on far too many occasions, letting that clear glass wall become a clear plastic partition instead. It is a behavior that I had hoped the intern would change soon enough, but I feel that he will always err on the side of being far too personal with his patients.

This is not to say that I hate him in any capacity. Truthfully, I have never hated him. He is young and inexperienced, but I could never harbor a hatred for someone so kind. And he is quite kind. It is why everyone he meets seems to instantly like him, more or less. There are those, like myself, who can find his enthusiasm and cheerfulness exhausting, but it is also quite endearing when one gets used to it. To see him smile is a joy, and I quietly wish to join in on his happiness despite never doing so. Perhaps someday in the future I will smile with him, once all of this is over and life has returned to being ordinary. I miss those days when I could take surgical consultations with patients without worry of an emergency ending my ability to ensure the best care for patients dealing with routine medical issues. This life in the CR is siphoning away my youth and my ability, and I fear that it will siphon away more of my happiness than it already has. There has been so much loss that I cannot think to have the life of anyone else I care about be ripped away so effortlessly.

This is why I hesitate in showing my true feelings anymore, yet I feel that warm smile radiating from Houjou Emu and think that I can freely express my emotions beyond anger or grief. Still, I fear the consequences of becoming too close to another person. If that warmth disappears, then will I fade to more of a shell than I had been prior to our meeting? This is all speculation, of course. Whatever happens in the future will happen, regardless of my pining for an alternative.

When I think of Houjou Emu from when we first met to the Houjou Emu of now, I see a marked difference in my perspective of him. Upon first assessment, he seemed like any ordinary intern, vibrant and eager, having yet to experience the harsh realities that come with working in a hospital setting. In him, I could see the light of youth, brilliant and irritatingly bright. He had the soul of a child pinned to the body of a young man, leaving him vulnerable and open to loss. I wondered how he would be once he had witnessed death. Death is what truly sinks in the reality of hospital work. Healthcare is the shepherding of both life and death. As physicians, we are the gods who watch over a person from birth to death, experiencing many of the life events of human existence within the small world of the hospital. Death touches all who work in the hospital, whether they work directly with patients or not. For Houjou Emu, I waited for him to meet death and know death. Death is a frequent visitor to every hospital, after all. And like every healthcare worker, Houjou Emu experienced death early in his career, though his experience was much different from anyone else. Even as I had witnessed that kind of death before, I acknowledged that it was strange and unnatural. I had seen death in a hospital setting before, yet I had been wholly unprepared for this kind of death. For Houjou Emu, it broke his heart. The death of a coworker is always a shock, yet this death was palpably wrong in its suddenness and cruelty.

When it was finally time for Houjou Emu to experience the death of his own patient, it was yet another painfully unnatural death. It was torturous and disturbing. However, from a professional standpoint, I feel that experiencing death in these ways may help to numb the intern to any further deaths that will be experienced during the course of his professional life. I have contemplated the possibility that perhaps this will be a good thing, yet that thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

I dislike the taste of sour substances.

In light of such atrocities, Houjou Emu has remained fairly resilient. His smile is an indicator of his morale, and it returns with such ferocity that it makes me question it. I worry that it is becoming a defense mechanism to deflect whatever negative emotions he is feeling following any kind of trauma. I am not a psychologist, thus I have no way of knowing. Perhaps I should recommend a therapist to him when all of this is over. I hope that would not be in poor taste. Without knowing the veracity of his smile, I cannot conclude with any certainty that he is dealing with the death around him in a healthy manner. However, I do appreciate his attempts at remaining optimistic given the troubling nature of our work in the CR. It has become a comfort to know that he will quickly become the smiling Houjou Emu that I have grown fond of, and even with his growth as a physician, he still maintains a bit of that childish innocence that gave him the lofty ideals he has come to treasure as an adult. At first, I considered it a nuisance, but having dreams is not a bad thing. In fact, many of the quirks of his personality that I had initially brushed off as unprofessional have proven to shed light on how my own temperament may in fact be a hindrance to my professional development as a physician.

I wonder if Houjou Emu’s influence is making me a better person.

This rounds me back to the original question of whether I like Houjou Emu. I feel as though the above evidence is sufficient enough to confirm that I indeed like him, but I did not mean “like” in the sense of enjoying him professionally. The word “like” in this instance is more abstract than that. If I can permit myself to utter the sentiment completely, my issue lies more in the question of whether I like Houjou Emu in a romantic sense. I question if my feelings for Houjou Emu are more than just of a professional nature, despite knowing little of him outside of our sphere of work.

I am not unaccustomed to romance. I have had a romantic relationship in the past. In truth, I have no issue with the idea of having such feelings for the intern beyond it lacking in professionalism. I sigh at the word “professionalism” as I think of it and wonder what the boundary of it is. I have known coworkers to find romance with each other and remain professional while at work, yet it troubles me to not understand what the line is between professional and unprofessional when these kinds of matters are not written expressly in the Code of Conduct or the employee handbook. There is no rule or regulation explicitly regarding matters of the heart, other than to not let it interfere with work. Thus far, nothing has interfered with work more than the troubling nature of the work itself. My feelings towards Houjou Emu, be they friendly or romantic or something else, have had little to do with interfering with my work, whether it is in the surgical suite or in the CR. My work is my work.

Yet I fear that if these feelings I have for Houjou Emu are indeed of a romantic nature, then what would change in our day-to-day operations as coworkers? If he were to accept whatever feelings I have for him, then would it still be possible for us to continue our work while stifling whatever primal urges bubble up from inside us? If he were to reject me, then would I still be able to work to the best of my ability with the man who trampled my heart? Or can I create enough of a distance between my emotions and my work that I need not worry about something like that at all? Or would that be a true test to know whether or not these emotions I have are indeed emotions of what would constitute “love”?

In any event, it would require some measure of resilience from me, to the level that Houjou Emu seems to carry with him. After what happened before, I worry that I will not be able to cope with heartache of any level ever again. I have watched death since, but those who have died I had little feeling for beyond fleeting acknowledgement of their abilities. When it comes to Houjou Emu, I fear that my closeness to him will do damage to me no matter what outcome occurs. I present myself as being detached from this world, yet I live so presently in it. I detest that part of myself.

Has any of this speculation and retrospection produced a result? I cannot say. I read these words and I wonder if I should just stand before Houjou Emu with my heart in my hand and ask him to do what he will with it. The more I contemplate this issue, the more I come to realize that perhaps this really is a romantic love that I feel in my chest. I can feel it even now as a heat that bleeds up to my cheeks and makes my heart beat a little faster in my chest. The abstract heart has such an incredible influence on the anatomical heart that it makes truth of poetry. The two things are inextricably linked to one another.

I picture him now in my head, Houjou Emu, the intern who shows promise as bright as his smile. I try hard to avoid the thought of calling him cute, but he has that personality. I struggle to think of anyone else who so exemplifies “cuteness” within my current world, beyond possibly Poppy Pipopapo, though her cuteness is of artificiality as she was programmed to be a cute character. Without that, she is not really “cute” in the same way that Houjou Emu is “cute.” His face is fairly handsome as well. Does the staff in other departments think of him that way, too? It may just be me, which could be a horrifying prospect. A cute personality, a handsome face, and a fiercely resilient approach to life are what make the intern so intriguing. I adore all of it together.

This is to say that I like Houjou Emu.

I like Houjou Emu quite a lot, to a point where it feels that our relationship has become quiet and subtle in a way that I enjoy. He understands me without words these days, and I understand him similarly. The only thing that I have yet to reveal is whatever is in my heart. It could very well just be a crush. I could merely be fancying him in the moment because I see him growing more heroic each day. The fact that I am questioning myself this much is proof that I am wavering in my certainty of emotion. I never thought it would be so hard to decide if my infatuation with another human being was love or not. I fear saying the words that I want to say. If they leak from my lips, then it will leave me vulnerable.

Perhaps I am over thinking this. I have already admitted that I like Houjou Emu more than just as a colleague and coworker. I have admitted that this infatuation could be more than just a whim. The only thing holding me back is my fear of admitting one thing.

In conclusion, I feel that I have determined what this feeling is. I have been turning over in my head and heart these past months, despite fears of saying what it is outright. However, I can say it with near certainty, in words on a page, but I know not if I have the courage to utter those words aloud to him. My conclusion is as follows: I do not like Houjou Emu. I believe that I am in love with him. My certainty on this matter is nearly 100% at this time. I am in love with Houjou Emu.

A note has been made in my calendar to delete this tomorrow morning.


End file.
